


Whoopsie-Daisy

by itisunreal



Series: Tag [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, a nice friendly game of tag, fluff-ish, minor language, round two: fight!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 11:56:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16017407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itisunreal/pseuds/itisunreal
Summary: May looks at all of them, each of them in turn, their eager, young faces, and shakes her head. The audacity of these children. These kids. Thinking they can come onto her plane, and tag her after that mess of a mission. How dare they.





	Whoopsie-Daisy

Daisy appears out of nowhere, standing just outside the doorway, haloed by the flickering fluorescent lights. She tilts her head, dark eyes unblinking, and it almost feels like the start of a horror movie. But May holds back a startled flinch at her sudden appearance, she’s not even supposed to be over here, she has her own part to play, which doesn’t evolve scaring her teammates.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Daisy doesn’t reply just continues to grin creepily, and puts a hand on her shoulder. And it takes all of a moment before she realizes what’s going on, what day it is, what Daisy’s doing.

May ducks further back into her room, forcing Daisy to either follow her or let go. Half of her hopes she follows so she out of the open. But she doesn’t, and May shakes her shoulders as the hand slips from her. She doesn’t share the same enthusiasm for the game in this moment. “You can’t seriously be doing this now.”

Finally dropping the act, Daisy steps closer. “You bet your ass I am. Time’s almost up, and I can’t be stuck with it another year, May. My ego seriously can’t handle it.”

“Daisy.”

“What?” She doesn’t stay, even as she responds. Backing up, she slips further down the hall, hugging the wall.

May follows, but only to the doorway. “We’re in the middle of a mission.”

“Mission smisshion. We’ll get it done, stop worrying so much, but in the mean time, you’re it.” She teases, voice echoing back as she skitters around a darkened corner. “Better pass it along, May. Wouldn’t want to ruin that record of yours.”

She waits briefly, reining in whatever irritation has wiggled its way out from under her armor. “Coulson, where are you?” Anticipating his reply, knowing the plan, she continues down the hall, following after Daisy, but at the break goes straight instead.

“ _West hall. Why?”_

“We need to talk.”

“ _Ooh, I’m in trouble now.”_ Daisy laughs over the line.

“ _When aren’t you?”_ Ah, wonderful. The rest of the peanut gallery is here, perfect.

“Get off the comms unless you need them.”

“ _Yes, May, ma’am, sir.”_

She can practically see the mock salute Daisy lobs her way, and grits her teeth.

“ _She getting to you today?”_

“All day.”

“ _Hey, I’m not gone yet.”_

“Daisy.”

“ _Bye, see you at Control with flash drive in hand.”_

She runs into him a minute later, his Icer up and pointed at her center mass. He drops it as he processes that she isn’t an enemy.

“Jeez, thought I missed someone.” Neither move to holster their weapons though. “What’d you want to talk about that couldn't wait?”

“Daisy’s thinks we’re playing right now.”

“Playing what?”

“It’s the end of the month, don’t play stupid with me, Philip.”

Stifling a grin, he nods down the hall. “Can we walk and talk? Still gotta clear this end room.”

Taking the opposite side, they start the process of checking. She stops as he approaches a smaller room, and goes in to clear it. There’s a minute where she thinks she’ll have to follow him, but he reappears, unharmed, and just as annoyingly chipper about the whole mess he's started.

“This is all your fault. If you hadn’t invited them...”

They approach the next room, her side, before she finishes. Slipping in, it’s empty, and easily cleared. She’s in and out like there was never a break in her stride, but he cuts in before she can continue.

“Then we’d be having a lot less fun right now.”

“It isn’t supposed to be fun. It’s work.”

Pausing at the double doors, he smiles pushing through. Rules are always rules unless she's the one breaking them, then they're more like guidelines. He notes the room’s odd set up, large but cut in half, a giant roller door separating the sides. They’ll be going through that door blind, but the base is supposed to be practically empty.

“Enjoying your work never killed anyone.”

“There’s a first time for everything.” She stops barely three steps in, halting him also. A door creaks off to the side, moaning as it opens fully. And there’s no time between the groaning and the firing, but she’s already pulled him behind cover.

“We’re not dead yet.” The glare he receives should chill him, but there’s only a burst of warmth in his chest.

Exasperated, she looks him straight in the eye. “In that case, I guess you’re it.”

Looking down to where she’s still got a hold of him, he shakes his head, smile growing wider. “She got you.”

There’s only a nod before he leans out. Sending out a shot, then another, and another, he continues until the incoming fire ceases, and he's on his feet, crouching. “Then I guess I’ve got to go.” Up, he checks his surrounding, heading for the opposite door, leaving her to finish clearing this room, and the next.

“The mission, Phil.”

“We’ll get it done. Don’t worry.”

She rolls her eyes as he waves at her without looking back.

 

* * *

 

Daisy cringes watching it unfold. She’d thought it’d just been reinforcements, hadn’t known May would be coming up behind them. And if throwing her isn’t the worst of it, watching her land makes Daisy’s own knee tweak painfully. She’s so dead after this; she’ll be grounded to the base for a month doing paperwork.

The definite injury doesn’t stop her from standing when the others do, from joining the fight. Not that many of them struggle back to their feet, but enough that it takes a minute before they’re all finally back down. May’s knee wobbles beneath her as she goes to situate herself on the bottom stair, holding in a grimace Daisy knows is there.

Hopping down the stairs, her apology is out before she’s even made it to the bottom, before she’s even in front of or beside May. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

“No powers, Daisy. You know the rules.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known you were behind them, I swear.”

“Then you should have listened to your comms better.”

It’s a side-eyed look she gets as May rubs at the damaged joint, the crease between her brows prominent. She’s thankful for the way she receives the look, at least, she’s pretty sure she couldn’t deal with the full force of the disappointed-mom-look, it’s like three tiers worse than a full-on glare. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that. Help me up.”

She holds out her hand, and Daisy jumps at the order, fairly certain she only gets the pleasure because no one else is around. Because when they do finally find the others, May lets go, starts walking mostly normal on it, jaw clenched; though the longer she goes, the worse her limp becomes.

 

* * *

 

When they’re back on the Zephyr, their mission complete, and gathered in the control room, Coulson stands at the center, arms crossed. He knows it was an accident, but even accidents have consequences. “I know this should be obvious, and that I was also part of the problem, but no games during missions--”

“But--”

And of course, Daisy tries to protest, she wouldn’t be her if she didn’t at least try, but he can’t budge on this, can’t have agents being injured because of a game. “No buts. We can clearly see what happens when we’re distracted.”

“But that’s not because of the mission, that’s because...”

“Because you weren’t paying attention to your comms, or what you were blasting.” That makes her slouch, the fight leaving her for now. He let’s it sit for a moment, soak in; let’s them take in what could have happened, how much worse it could have been. But it’s hard to punish them with so many years of tradition on the line. And it’s not like they hadn’t been hurt doing to exact same thing decades before. “That being said, the mission’s over, and there are…” He glances at his watch. “Five minutes left.”

“Are you serious? We’re on the plane. My plane.”

Smiling at the indignation, he claps his hands; he can deal with that particular ire later. “All right. May’s off limits. Don’t break the Zephyr or you’re answering to her.”

He can’t decide which is louder, the chorus of saddened awes or the way she bites back at his decision.

“The hell I am.”

Either way, it makes his smile grow wider, almost to the point of aching cheeks. “I just thought...”

“You thought wrong.”

“Can we get this started? Four minutes to go.” Daisy claps her hands in much the same fashion as Coulson had, shifting her weight side to side, ready to not be this year’s loser.

“Who’s it?” Coulson asks.

“I was.”

The voice comes from behind her, and May closes her eyes as she feels a hand land on her shoulder.

“Should have stayed off limits.”

“Simmons.” The warning’s clear enough, and the hand leaves her person.

“Sorry, no taunting. I know better.”

May looks at all of them, each of them in turn, their eager, young faces, and shakes her head. The audacity of these children. These kids. Thinking they can come onto her plane, and tag her after that clusterfuck of a mission. How dare they.

“Well, this is going to be easy,” Daisy snorts, but her boast doesn’t stop her from taking a step back as May pushes herself upright.

Her leg twinges where she took the brunt of the landing, and she shifts her weight off it. “I’ll give you ten seconds to get out of here.”

They’re gone in a flash, but Coulson is still standing there, watching her. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine, worry wart.”

Moving in front of her, he’s close but not touching. “You could always just tag me, and I can pass out some swift justice.”

“You can’t pass out swift anything.”

Putting his hand to his chest, he staggers back a little. “You wound me.”

“There’s a reason you’re a field agent, sweetie.”

“Everyone’s a critic.” Shrugging, he tilts his head, and rights himself back into her space. “You can make it up to me though.”

“How so?”

He leans down, and she leans in, hands finding his shoulders to brace herself. It’s an unintentional pass, but he’ll take it if it means getting her off that knee until they’re back at base. He can handle another loss, has been doing it for years. There’s a hairs breath between him and his destination when someone clears their throat, tsk-tsking them. And he groans knowing exactly which person would be so rude.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa… You can’t just say we’re going to play, and then just stand here making out.”

Holding up a finger, Coulson steps back, looking like he has something to say on the matter, but May stops him.

“Pass it back.”

“What?”

“Give it back.”

“That’s against the rules.”

“Phil, give it back,” she demands, and he easily concedes, but not without first making it official. There were rules for this kind of thing for a reason.

“All right. One time rule amendment: tag backs will be allowed for the remaining time of this year’s game. Do I have a second?”

“Wait, what? You can’t do this.” She stops leaning, standing evenly on both feet.

“Seconded.”

“Motion passed.”

“This is bullshit,” Daisy mutters to herself mostly, turning to find a safe place to wait out the remaining minutes, she is not getting stuck with this another year, and she has no doubt May’s gunning for her.

“We’ll finish this later.”

“Of course, you’ve got some work to do. Go get ‘em, tiger.”

“You’ve got to stop using that for everyone,” she says hobbling toward the hall.

“I’ve got to do no such thing.”

 

* * *

 

Ducking down, she hears that uneven pace, knows May’s close, but if she just comes a little more forward, Daisy’s will be able to slip around her, make a run for it. Once passed, May will never catch up until it’s too late. She’s so close to winning this thing, just needs… The speakers blast to life, jolting her into the cabinets. Shit.

“ _Hello, everyone. I’ll be the official time keeper for this year’s festivities. Please enjoy your stay on Zephyr One, and watch out, the halls are being prowled. One minute left.”_

“Hi.”

Daisy jumps again, falling to her butt, and scrambles back. Finding her feet, she looks for an exit. But there isn’t one, she chose the wrong room for getting caught. “Oh, this isn’t fair. You can’t just change the rules whenever you want, May.”

“Can’t I?”

“Nope, not how it works. The rules are there for a reason. So, it’s fair for everyone.”

“You’re the one who wanted to play.”

“Not on the plane. There’s no where to run.”

“I thought this would be easy.”

Daisy grins, continuing to inch away until her back bumps against the wall. “All talk. I may be reckless, but I’m not insane.”

“ _30 seconds._ ”

It’s blared over the sound system, but it doesn’t speed up the way May lazily stalks towards her. She wants to sweep the legs. Instinct tells her to give her a gentle toss across the room, and run like hell, but she’d promised no powers, and she’d already kind of swept the legs and tossed her earlier. Instead, she tucks herself into the far corner, curling away from May as she closes in. Closing her eyes, she shields her face. “Don’t hurt me, I’m precious.”

 

“What happened? I thought you had it in the bag this year,” Mack asks as they make their way back in, Daisy’s shoulders hunched in defeat.

She shrugs, plopping herself down. “May made a last minute rule change then made sure it benefited only herself, and cornered me in a dead end.”

May groans as she sits beside her, ignoring the way she's being frowned at. “You threw me down the stairs.”

Breathing in to retort, Daisy stops, and nods. “Fair enough.”


End file.
